


The best laid plans

by darkmoore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Gen, Pining, Pre-Slash, Soul Bond, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmoore/pseuds/darkmoore
Summary: AU. Desperate after years of war, Voldemort has taken to draining his Death Eaters' magic through their shared link, slowly killing them in the process. In a desperate attempt to  save Snape, Harry tries to override the mark with a bond of his own. With unforeseen consequences. (Can be read as friendship only or pre-slash)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11





	The best laid plans

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in the HP fandom for several years, yet this story was written within a couple of hours after deciding on the plot. It fills the "unexpected consequences of planned soulbonding" square on my h/c BINGO card. 
> 
> Special thanks go to my sis **ca_pierson** , for kicking my butt and making me write this story instead of the one I was struggling with. And to [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier), who did an amazing speed-beta job on it and is a never ending source of comfort and support. I owe you, Ladies.

Harry turned halfway around when he felt Hermione step up to him. She draped the heavy, dark green robes over his shoulders and pulled them into place. Harry gave her a grateful smile and closed the clasp at the front. 

“Are you ready to do this? You’ve completed all the rituals, memorized the spell? You know that if your pronunciation is off it won’t work, or it could-”

“I know, Hermione. Okay? I know. And I’m prepared. I’ve practiced the spell several times. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I need to do this, _now_ , before Severus is too weak. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.” Harry did his very best to sound calm and reassuring even though he had to admit he was slightly nervous. 

He was going to save Severus Snape’s life by binding himself to the man in a modified soulbond ritual that was usually reserved for marriages. 

It wasn’t what Harry had expected his life to look like at twenty, but then again, when had anything ever gone as expected? After almost five years of bitter war that had nearly destroyed both the wizarding world and the muggle world alike, he was no closer to defeating Voldemort than he had been when he’d still been at school.

When Hogwarts had still actually been a school and not just the headquarters of the Order. When he’d still thought he could end this war quickly and hopefully be done with his responsibilities toward the wizarding world.

How naïve he’d been. 

Harry had been disabused of that fantasy a long time ago. 

He took a deep breath and took Hermione’s hands, squeezing them gently. “It’s gonna be fine, Hermione. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to save Severus and then we can go back to making a new plan on how to defeat Voldemort. This war has to end once and for all and for that, we actually need Snape.”

Hermione smoothed her hands down the front of his robes and hugged him. “I’m so proud of you, Harry, you know that, right? Good luck!”

Harry hugged her back and held her for a moment, taking strength from the connection he felt to his best friend. 

“Thank you.”

* * *

“Harry my boy, come on in, we’re just about ready to begin.” Dumbledore opened the door to Snape’s quarters and let Harry enter. 

The room was warm and smelled of the various herbs Dumbledore and Snape would have burned in preparation of the ritual. Dozens of candles where placed throughout the room at strategic points of the protective circle that had been drawn onto the floor. In the middle of the circle sat Snape, hunched in a chair and wrapped up in robes that looked far too big on his thin, emaciated frame. He’d been deteriorating quickly these past few days. Harry hoped he wasn’t too late already. 

“Potter,” Snape said by way of greeting. 

His voice was hoarse and lacked the biting sarcasm Harry had come to appreciate. 

“Hello, Severus.”

Dumbledore rubbed his hands in apparent excitement and gestured for Harry to step into the circle, next to Snape. “Shall we begin?”

Harry took his place next to Snape’s chair and let the former Headmaster’s words wash over him. He concentrated on his breathing, on staying calm, on staying focused. This ceremony was one of the most important things he’d done in his life so far. And that was saying a lot. 

When it was time for him to say the spell and initiate the soulbond that would override the Dark Mark, Harry crouched down in front of Snape’s chair. Ideally both of them should have been standing, but Snape was already too weak for that. So Harry decided to get down to Snape’s level rather than looming over him. 

“Severus? Are you ready?” Harry asked quietly when Snape didn’t react to the ritual opening words of the binding ceremony. 

“Do I have a choice?” Snape asked. He sounded bitter. And maybe slightly scared. 

Harry felt bad for him. He could imagine what it must cost Snape to allow this bond. Just like the Dark Mark, he would have to accept this bond willingly. 

With a soft sigh, Harry half turned around to Dumbledore. “Could you give us a moment, Albus?” 

Dumbledore smiled at him and said, “Of course, my boy. I’ll wait over there. I can’t leave the room or else we’ll have to start over with the ritual.” He walked over to a chair in the corner of the room near the fireplace and sat down. 

Harry focused back on Snape. 

“Severus, I know this isn’t what you wanted. And if there were any other way to keep Voldemort from draining your magic and killing you, we’d go that route. But there is none.”

They both knew that was the truth. They should be glad they’d managed to alter the soulbonding ritual in a way that it would override the bastardized soulbond that was the Dark Mark. But alterations had consequences. Both Hermione and McGonagall had shared their fears that when overriding the Dark Mark, Harry might leave one of his own. 

Snape had understandably been less than happy about that prospect. He was convinced he was just trading one Master for another. And a _Potter_ at that. 

Snape wordlessly pushed his robe to the side and offered the arm with the exposed Mark to Harry. His face was grim, his lips a tight line, and Harry could see him shaking minutely. 

_Like a lamb to the slaughter,_ Harry thought and suppressed another sigh. This wouldn’t work. Not if Snape wasn’t prepared to trust him with his own safety at least a little.

“If you think it will help, I’m prepared to swear a wizard’s oath that I will not use this bond, and the mark that comes with it, to manipulate you, harm you, or control you in any way.” 

Snape’s lips twitched and something like genuine surprise rushed over his face. “How very Gryffindor of you. But I assure you, it won’t be necessary. Let’s just get this over with.”

Harry inclined his head. “If you’re sure.” 

He gestured for Dumbledore to step closer again and when he was back in position, Harry carefully placed his right hand on the Dark Mark that sat red and angry on Snape’s pale skin. 

Snape flinched but otherwise stayed silent. He wasn’t required to speak until after Harry had started to override the bond that was already in place, with one of his own.

As soon as Harry started the incantation, he could feel Voldemort’s magic writhing under his hand like a living thing. It was sharp and biting and Harry could feel how it sucked Snape’s magic and life away. 

Harry finished the first part of the spell and concentrated on the existing bond he could feel clearly within Snape. He pushed at it with his own magic, shoved as much of himself at it as he dared in the attempt to dislodge it but it was a slow process. The bond from the Dark Mark seemed to stretch like a rubber band, and then, right when it started to fray and collapse, a strong burst of magic travelled along the bond. 

Panicked, Harry shielded Snape from the onslaught of raw, foreign magic by diverting it into himself. It hurt. It hurt like fire in his veins as it raced through his body. In that moment Harry was grateful for the fact that he had so much experience in dealing with pain, be it the Cruciatus or otherwise. 

He didn’t falter, didn’t waver as he breathed through the pain in his arms and in his chest, and finished the spell. He sealed the place where the Dark Mark had been anchored within Snape with his own magic, careful to keep the foreign magic away from Snape. 

Harry heard Snape speak his own part of the spell and for a second he was worried it wouldn’t work after all. That his bond wouldn’t take and the Dark Mark would come rushing back, killing Snape in the process. 

But the magic beneath his fingers settled down, Snape’s own magic accepting Harry’s bond, and he breathed out, slowly, trying to keep his own hands from shaking. 

He hurt all over. 

Slowly, Harry lifted his hand from Snape’s skin to reveal a pale, almost invisible mark in the shape of the Potter house crest. 

Snape made a sound in the back of his throat and lifted an eyebrow. “Congratulations, Mr. Potter. It seems you managed to mark me as your property, as expected.” Snape’s words lacked bite and Harry decided that it was better not to reply. 

He wasn’t sure how steady his own voice would be, anyway. 

Instead, he slowly rose to his feet, careful not to stumble and fall from the sharp bursts of pain that still wreaked havoc in his body. 

Dumbledore stepped up to them and clapped his hands, grinning like a child in a toy store. “Brilliant, my boy. Brilliant. You did it!”

Harry smiled at him but stepped out of reach when Dumbledore wanted to pat him on the arm. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to stand physical contact and not give away in how much pain he really was. 

“I’m glad I could help,” Harry finally brought out. He was grateful there was only a slight tremor in his voice, one that could easily be attributed to the emotional ritual they’d just performed. 

“I’ll leave you to it, now. I’d like to be alone for a moment.” Harry inclined his head towards Snape – who under different circumstances would have been recognized as his husband and bonded – and fled the room. 

He needed a pain potion and a few hours of rest.

* * *

Harry had stripped down to his underwear and taken a pain potion, before levitating himself off of the bed, because even the contact with the soft sheets hurt like sandpaper on raw skin. 

Thanks to the ridiculous amount of magical energy Harry had at his disposal at any given time – and hadn’t that been fun when he’d come into his full powers and still wasn’t strong enough to defeat Voldemort – he was hovering in midair, dozing, when Poppy suddenly stepped out of his fireplace. 

Usually, the mediwitch wouldn’t barge in unannounced, so Harry was instantly fully alert and battle ready. He dropped to his feet as he wordlessly spelled his clothes back onto himself and pushed the residual pain from his earlier ordeal to the back of his mind, completely focused on whatever crisis had occurred. 

“Poppy! What’s wrong? Where’s the emergency? Is Severus all right?” Harry’s wand flicked into his hand and he gave her his full attention.

“Severus is recovering at a remarkable speed and is resting comfortably, thanks to you. However, he told me that _you_ are in a ridiculous amount of pain for no apparent reason and that I should check on you immediately.” There was a stern, albeit concerned, look on her face. 

Harry felt himself blanch. How had Severus known? How had he been able to tell what was going on? Harry was sure he’d kept the backlash from Voldemort’s magic away from Severus. 

“I’m fine, Poppy. It’s nothing. Severus shouldn’t have sent you. I don’t know what he thinks he knows, but I’m perfectly fine, really.”

She glared at him, hands propped on her hips and said, “Yes, and because you’re perfectly fine and it’s nothing, you were _hovering above your bed_ instead of lying in it. Would you like to try this again or should I knock you on your arse to scan you?” 

Harry sighed. He knew that he was magically stronger than she was and theoretically could have resisted her but he also knew that that would be incredibly unwise. She was a good person and worried about him and angering her would serve no purpose at all. 

“I already took a pain potion, Poppy. It’s fine, really. I just need some rest and time to settle the excess magic I may have accidentally picked up.” Harry avoided Poppy’s eyes and sat down on his bed. The movement sent another jolt of pain through his body and he couldn’t help but flinch. 

Poppy’s wand was in her hand in an instant and she looked at him with renewed concern. “Excess magic?” she asked mildly before muttering a diagnostic spell Harry knew all too well by now. 

“Uh, I may have gotten some backlash when I was overriding the Dark Mark and replaced it with a bond of my own,” Harry admitted sheepishly and looked away at the dawning horror on Poppy’s face. 

“Wait, you are saying that Voldemort sent magic through the Dark Mark and you absorbed it? All of it? By yourself?”

Harry shrugged and looked down at his folded hands. “I couldn’t let any of it through to Severus. It would have killed him. I had to shield him from it. Please don’t tell him. He’s upset enough about the whole bonding thing as it is.”

Poppy hummed noncommittally and then cast another spell. 

“How are you even still conscious with that amount of additional magic?” she asked as she stared at the projection her new diagnostic spell cast into midair. “You must feel like you’re burning alive.”

“It’s okay, I’ve had worse,” Harry murmured, embarrassed. He knew he’d developed a very high pain threshold over the years, but to have it thrown into his face so blatantly still made him feel uncomfortable. 

“Oh Harry. Just because you’ve had worse doesn’t mean you need to suffer in silence. I’m here to help, you know that. I can make this easier on you. Let me go get the right potion and then you can get some real rest.” 

She flicked the diagnostic spell away and walked over to the fireplace, presumably to fetch the potion from the infirmary. 

“Poppy, wait,” Harry called out, and she turned around again and looked at him. 

“How did Severus know that I’m … uncomfortable?” Harry needed to know what had given him away. 

“Oh, he said since the bond settled, he’s apparently hyperaware of you. He knows exactly where you are and how you’re feeling. He got so agitated over it I had to give him a light sedative. I thought you might have felt it, too, that’s why I didn’t say anything.” She frowned. “It seems to be an odd side effect of the soulbond the two of you share now.”

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

That was the last thing he needed.

* * *

“Mr. Potter, come on in.” Snape’s voice was back to its old strength, complete with patented snark as he opened the door to his rooms to let Harry in. 

“I think we need to talk,” Harry said and sat when Snape gestured to the comfortable, high backed chair in his living area. 

“How have you come to that conclusion, Mr. Potter? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact the soulbond spell you butchered allows us to feel each other, locate each other, and makes Occlumency completely useless, would it?” 

Harry suppressed a sigh. He hadn’t come to argue. 

“I didn’t know that would happen. None of us knew. I’m sorry I’ve accidentally invaded your privacy,” Harry said, sincerely. “I’d take it back, if I could. But we can’t dissolve the bond until Voldemort is dead. I’m so sorry.”

Snape paced in front of Harry’s chair slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. 

“I have to admit you puzzle me, Mr. Potter. If my sources are to be believed, you risked a great deal when you entered this bond with me. In fact, from the amount of pain you were in even hours after the ordeal, I assume you foolishly risked your own life for mine like the reckless Gryffindor you are. What was it, hm? A curse? Magical drain? Did Voldemort try to siphon off my magic all at once when he felt the bond break?”

Harry kept quiet. He didn’t want to talk about any of this. He didn’t want to listen to one more lecture about how he was stupidly reckless or the attention seeking golden boy. Snape didn’t know anything about who Harry really was and Harry had long since given up hope Snape would care to look beyond his childhood image. 

He liked Snape, sharp tongue and all. He liked his sarcasm, his refreshingly honest attitude and, most of all, he respected Snape for all that he had done for the Order and the wizarding world, at great personal risk. 

He considered Severus Snape a friend, even if the dour Potions Master had never given any indication the same was true for Snape. Harry wasn’t sure Snape considered any of the Order members his friends. 

Merely acquaintances. 

“Are you not going to answer me? Tell me how the great Harry Potter heroically saved the worn-down spy?” 

There as a strange undertone in Snape’s voice and the emotions that Harry so desperately tried to block out ever since he’d become aware of his connection to Snape, were confusing and raw. Like jagged edges cutting through his chest.

“Would you stop it? Please? I said I’m sorry. What else do you want from me? I’ll talk to Hermione and Minerva. Maybe they know a way to alter the bond. Get rid of the emotional component. I meant it when I said I would swear an oath to not harm you or control you. I never wanted any of this to happen. Merlin, I just wanted to set you free.”

Harry pushed his hands through his hair and tried to calm himself down. He was acutely aware of the fact that Snape had complete access to his feelings, could feel what he felt. Hopefully he was about as bad at deciphering the emotions he got from him, as Harry was. 

“Set me free? How touching. And completely impossible. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I? I merely swapped one bond for another. A less deadly one perhaps, but ultimately more intrusive. So, I ask you again, Mr. Potter. What was it the Dark Lord did that left you in need of a pain potion and a mediwitch?”

Harry felt utterly tired. Tired of this conversation. Tired of trying his hardest to hide his emotions from Snape ever since he had bound himself to the man. “What does it matter what he did? I kept it away from you and directed it at myself. There’s nothing to learn from it, nothing to gain. I doubt Voldemort did it on purpose. It would make no sense. With my luck it was some sort of feedback loop or something-” 

Harry broke off his rambling when Snape stopped his pacing right in front of him and looked at him in surprise. A wave of something warm, something unidentifiable, rushed through Snape and it momentarily distracted Harry. 

“Feedback loop? What in Merlin’s name did you do, you foolish boy? Did the bond _feed_ you magical energy?”

“More like blasted it at me, if you really need to know. But yes. That’s what happened. I suspect that, when Voldemort tried to keep the bond intact, he somehow accidentally fed the energy he had been draining from the other Death Eaters into the loop and it ended up directed at you. That what you wanted to hear?” 

Harry glanced down at his feet, angry that he’d given in. He hadn’t meant to tell Snape any of it. 

“Are you going to tell me again how reckless I was? How irresponsible? Does it do something for your ego to belittle me? I tried to apologize. I tried to do right by you. I don’t know why you’re so angry at me.”

“Because I don’t understand you, Potter. I don’t understand what you stand to gain from all of this. You’ve made it perfectly clear that it’s not control or power over me you seek. You can’t use this to gloat or boast your ego, because I doubt anyone would find me worth the time or attention of the wizarding world’s savior, let alone him risking his life for me. I need to know why you did what you did, Potter.”

The emotion that accompanied Snape’s little speech was cold and desolate. Hopeless. But also confused and unsure. 

Harry shook his head and looked Snape directly in the eyes. 

“I told you. I wanted to help you. I wanted to set you free. No one deserves to go through what you did. No one deserves to suffer that kind of pain. Why can’t you accept that there was nothing more to it than me wanting to help out a friend?”

“A friend?” The bewilderment Harry could hear in Snape’s voice resonated through his whole body. It was an easy emotion to pick up on. 

“Yes, a friend.” Harry took a deep breath. “At least that’s how I think of you.”

“We’re not friends,” Snape said, and the indignation that accompanied those words felt like a kick to Harry’s stomach. 

“Yeah, you’ve made that abundantly clear to me,” Harry said quietly and got up from the chair, intending to walk past Snape. 

His chest ached with disappointment and something even he couldn’t name but that he didn’t want to look at too closely, either. 

A hand on his arm stopped Harry in his tracks. “Wait, Potter. You’re … hurt.”

Harry shook his head and looked away, trying in vain to hide his suddenly stinging eyes. Merlin, he was an idiot for having given Snape the chance to rile him up. When would he learn Snape would never be able to look past the image he had of Harry? Why did Harry even keep trying?

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry said and pulled his arm away from Snape. He needed to leave. He needed to leave right now. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Potter. We need to work this out if we want to have any hope of gaining back a semblance of normalcy. We can’t be distracted by each other’s emotions. We need to learn to cope.”

“Maybe what we need is to be as far away from each other as possible,” Harry said. He was so sick and tired of this conversation. 

“Physical distance will do nothing about the bond or the way it functions and you know that, Mr. Potter.”

At his patience’s end, Harry moved to fully step in front of Snape, right into his personal space. “And what do you suggest we do then, huh? Since talking has worked out so well for us so far.”

Snape smirked at him. It was unsettling, to say the least. “Maybe we should strive to get to know each other beyond our preconceived notions. After all, you are convinced that I don’t know you at all.”

Harry frowned at him. “How did you-”

Snape laughed. “I’ve been studying human emotions and learning Occlumency and Legilimency since before you were even born, Potter. You will find that I can be rather perceptive, if I choose to be. I shall strive to learn everything there is to know about the inner workings of one Harry James Potter.”

“Uh, that sounds like fun,” Harry said, unsure of what was happening here. 

Snape inclined his head and to Harry’s great surprise he could feel a hand at the small of his back, touching gently. 

“Who knows, Mr. Potter, maybe we find we can be friends after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've "recast" adult Harry Potter in my head-canon with a different actor a long, long time ago. My go to image of Harry in his early twenties is Drew Fuller, the way he looked at the time of the original "Charmed" show. At least he has green eyes ...


End file.
